


Silence When the TV Is On

by TheLiveshipParagon



Series: Silence [3]
Category: Marvel, Punisher (Comics), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: A really bad Walking Dead reference, Claiming Bites, Dirty Talk, Domestic Bliss, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Good Cop Bad Cop, Marking, Porn With Plot, Reality TV, Rough Sex, Series, Sex Games, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 13:07:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16744588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLiveshipParagon/pseuds/TheLiveshipParagon
Summary: Based on a long long ago request of Frank and Byrne watching TV and just having their own version of domestic life.





	Silence When the TV Is On

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the events of the Silence series (Please see series link to catch up!)  
> Warnings: Smut, Rough Smut, Marking, Dirty Talk  
> (Possible proof reading errors)  
> Happy reading guys!  
> \- TLP xx

“Gimme the damn remote!” Frank ordered as you squirmed out of his grip, leaping back onto the arm of the couch as you perched there, cat like.

“Nuh uh,” you wave it in his face. “You want it so bad, come get it.”

“I am seriously gonna spank the livin’ shit outta ya, Byrne,” he growls. “It’s the fuckin’ final, give it back.”

“My demands have been given,” you say ostentatiously, a crooked smirk on your lips. “Too bad you’re getting slow, Castle.”

“Fuck, girl, you just made a  _huge_  mistake,” Frank says darkly, his eyes glittering with anticipation and you can see his muscles coiling in readiness.

You know he’s not  _actually_  pissed off, it’s just a game you keep playing. Frank would say it was a way to keep up your guard and to train for surprise attacks, you would say it was just a way to horse around and be silly as a couple.

“Oh I’m so terrified,” you raise an eyebrow. “You just ate half of the cinnamon rolls, you’re not moving fast any time soon.”

To give him credit, he springs up, making a very rapid effort to grab at you but you flip backwards, onto the floor, skipping out of his reach with the biggest smug grin on your face.

“Toooold yaaaa,” you sing in a childish way.

“Darlin’, you ain’t gonna win this. Ya never do,” Frank sighs, prowling around the edge of the couch. “You tire out and-”

Apparently him talking was just a ruse to distract you because he charges, his speed always surprising you for a man so bulky. You make a squeak before ducking under his arms, pelting for the little library in the house because you know it has other exits.

You can hear him gaining on you and just as you’re about to turn, you feel him lunge and tackle you down into the beanbags where you land with an ‘oof’ your body perfectly moulding into the beans.

“Gotcha now, girl,” Frank chuckles. “Ya made it a bit further this time, not bad. Still didn’t win.”

“Oh? So where’s the remote then?” you manage to muffle out around a mouthful of fabric.

“Shit…” he trails off, looking at your empty hands. “What the fuck? Tell me where it is or I’ll keep ya on the edge all fuckin’ night.”

“Bullshit, you enjoy watching me cum,” you counter, twisting so you’re right side up again. “You don’t scare me, Frank.”

“I should do,” he nips at your neck, the most recent bruise still clinging onto tinges of yellow. “Think I ain’t got the patience? Ya test me enough, you’ll see it darlin’ and you’ll regret teasin’ me.”

“Big words,” you snort. “Still don’t believe you would.”

“Hmmm, we’ll see,” he chuckles, kissing along under your chin and along your throat, causing your head to arch back. “First thing’s first, think like a cop. I got a suspect who ain’t co-operatin’. I got a suspect who hid somethin’. Gotta frisk 'em, right?”

He starts openly groping your top, making sure not to miss a single inch of your body before trailing down along your legs and then back up. Then his hands delve into your sweatpants and along the juncture of your thigh before his fingers curl against something.

“Gotcha,” he grins triumphantly. “Fuckin’ cops are always predictable.”

He fishes out the remote from where you’d stashed it, wedged in between the leg of your underwear and your sweatpants and waves it in front of your face.

“Seriously, Byrne, do better,” he taps you on the nose with it.

“What remote is that?” you ask innocently, batting your eyelids.

He scowls for a second before really looking and then you see his expression fall.

“Fuckin’ stereo remote? Seriously? Jesus girl, where the fuck ya have the time to switch 'em?!”

“I got my ways,” you wink. “I’m getting good at this, huh?”

“Shit yeah,” Frank laughs. “'Aight, I admit defeat. Now tell me how ya did it?”

“When I backed up before you charged me, I took the one from the sideboard, swapped it and ditched the other in the plant pot just outside the door. You were so focused on chasing me you didn’t look.”

“That’s ma girl,” he kisses your forehead. “Guess I’m getting sloppy. I need to be more vigilant. This is why this shit is good, Byrne. Keeps me active, keeps me sharp.”

“Speaking of active,” you tug on his jeans. “I believe you still get something for catching me?”

“God I love how much ya want me,” Frank shivers slightly with lust. “Fuck knows why but I’ll take it. Not on a goddamn beanbag though. Too noisy.”

If ever there was a point where you felt small and helpless, for being a tall weightlifting cop, it was whenever Frank picked you up like you weighed nothing to him and just arranged you on top of the waist high stepladder, scattering the books that were on top of it before yanking your pants off and your underwear, leaving you bare.

Smack!

You yelp, not expecting the sudden sensation to which he just laughs.

“Told ya I’d spank ya,” you hear him say from behind and then the telltale noise of a zipper going down.

Feeling the press of his cock against you, you automatically backed up, pushing him into you slightly, relishing how hard he already was and knowing how much he enjoyed your little games.

“Ohhhh we’re eager, huh girl?” Frank chuckles. “Someone likes being a brat.”

“Brat?!” you say in indignation but when he suddenly thrusts his whole length into you, the words just kind of fall out of your head.

“Yeah a brat. You act up until you get your own way and your own way is me fuckin’ ya hard. Ain’t it, girl?”

“Uh huh,” you admit.

I mean, why lie at this point? It was kind of what you did but you knew he loved putting you in your place so to speak. Frank needed control in his life and it was no different in the bedroom.

“So honest,” he whistles through his teeth. “Hold tight, darlin’. I ain’t in the mood for slow. Ya makin’ me miss my programme after all.”

You have to scramble to hold onto the sides of the ladder as, true to his word, he rams into you, over and over, not being gentle in the slightest. His hand comes to fist in your hair, grabbing it by the root and pulling up, making your back arch and you feel him hit even deeper in you.

“Fuck, girl. I love the way ya feel,” he groans. “Always so ready for me. Always takin’ such a fuckin’ poundin’.”

You’re just an incoherent mess at this point, gripping onto the ladder for dear life as your body knows only one thing and one thing alone, Frank Castle’s complete ruination of you.

“I think I’ll make another mark, right abouuuuuut…..here,” he scratches the back of your shoulder lightly. “Just so you know who’s boss.”

Feeling his teeth scrape against the skin before properly biting down, you felt the jolt all the way down in between your legs as you clenched around him, causing him to grit his teeth further, breaking the skin a little.

“Fuck,” comes the coarse sound, mingling with your own moans.

His other hand drifts from your hip to underneath your legs, the calloused pads of his fingers finding your clit and tracing vicious circles there, causing your legs to almost buckle. Thankfully the ladder is keeping you supported or you would’ve fallen over. Frank seriously knew your body by now and what would make you become a writhing mess.

“I’m close, girl,” he breathes in your ear. “You ain’t cum before I do, tough luck. Shouldn’t have started playin’ games.”

“Not fair,” you hiss as he ruts so deep, your body starts trembling.

“Plenty fair,” Frank chuckles. “I’m helpin’ ya out, ain’t I? Come on, ya ain’t got much time.”

You blocked everything else out, desperate to get release before he did. You refused to be left wanting all night or you may actually become violent and the last time you did that, you had to explain away some of the more savage looking sexual marks that had happened when you went to work the next day.

The wave of pleasure was building, cresting and you were so damn close when you felt Frank drive into you as deep as he could, swearing like a true marine and his ministrations on you stopped as he spilled into you.

“No no noooo,” you whine, feeling the sensation recede.

“I’m just fuckin’ with ya, Byrne,” Frank laughs before resuming playing with you. “I ain’t  _that_  much of an asshole.”

Within seconds, you came hard around his still rigid cock, your body jerking slightly with the small spasms until you were finally sated.

“And ya right. I do  _love_  watchin’ ya cum. It’s hot,” Frank notes, pulling out and redressing himself, leaving you completely wrecked, still panting over the stepladder.

Wordlessly, he picks you up, slings you over his shoulder and then deposits you on the couch where he lies on his side with you, spooning you before flipping the TV back on.

You’re still in a daze, watching him flick through the channels again and then laugh.

“What?” Frank asks.

“He looks like you,” you point.

“Fuck off does he,” Frank scowls. “Skinny guy like that, nawww. Ya blind, darlin’ or I’m just gonna be real insulted now.”

“Shut up,” you nudge him as he flicks off 'The Walking Dead’ and onto 'The Great British Bake Off’. “I’ll never understand how you got so into this show.”

“It’s just nice,” Frank shrugs. “No bullshit, no fake cryin’, just quaint. Plus I want ya to make some a’ the shit they do.”

“Oh I’m sure,” you roll your eyes.

“Now shut up and let me watch it in peace. I think I’ve earned it,” Frank nuzzles your neck.

“Sure thing, sir,” you smirk before you both settle in for the night.

 

____

I’ll take this opportunity to drop down some tinkering I did on HeroMachine 3 to show Byrne in her cop life (they didn’t have good uniforms on the site haha) and the Black Velvet Punisher suit (Just a silly little thing to illustrate but I enjoy this fic’s little universe :) )


End file.
